withimpunity | Fic: Dirty Laundry

Title: Dirty Laundry
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Words: 1061 (hahaha this was going to be a drabble)
Disclaimer: This is all made up. Pinky swear.
A/n: Jared.
Warning: You will definitely need to brush your teeth after reading this. The writer is in a diabetic COMA now just from writing it. BEWARE THE SCHMOOP.

Its four in the morning and all Jared's worried about is grabbing all of his shit before the cab driver gives up and leaves him, and getting out of the house before the dogs figure out he's leaving and start barking like hell and wake Jensen up.

The driver grumbles when Jared finally barrels out the door, shoving four different sized duffel bags into the trunk and the backseat, then proceeds to collapse next to them in the back. He wakes up thirty-minutes later, drooling on his overnight bag, and pays the driver extra for waiting on him. He checks in for his flight and chugs a Monster, but it only keeps him going long enough to get his luggage checked and get settled on the plane before he falls back asleep.

Half-way to California, Jared wakes up to the faint smell of sweat, cigarette smoke, and Jensen's cologne and a slow smile spreads across his face. It takes him too long to realize that Jensen's not actually there, just that he'd accidentally grabbed one of his dirty shirts out of the hamper that morning in his hurried rush. There's a pain in Jared's chest that he should probably explore, but he's still so tired, so he goes back to sleep, breathing in that familiar scent, and dreams he's the Princess of Canada with Jensen as his Prince.

Jared has to meet with his agent at three and then there's a fund raiser at four-thirty that he's supposed to make it to. He checks in at the hotel first and partially unpacks, putting his toothbrush and toothpaste and hair products in the bathroom, the picture he brought of Sadie and Harley on the nightstand, and throws the bags of clothes in the corner. When its time to go to the meeting, Jared stares them down.

Logically, he knows he should change. There are plenty of cleaner, un-wrinkled, larger shirts that will cover his entire torso in those bags. None of them smell like Jensen.

Jared shuts the door behind him, duffel bags untouched.

I saw the pics.

Jensen texts him while he's out with Chad at some ridiculously loud club where Jared feels Totally out of place. Chad keeps throwing girls at him and Jared keeps smiling and boring them to death until finally they leave.

What pics? The ones of your mom? Those are old, dude.

lol bitch. The ones of you at that Fundrsr wearing MY gd shirt.

Jared swallows and something tightens in his stomach; could be the taquitos Chad made earlier, or it could be something else entirely. He fingers the hem of Jensen's shirt while he thinks about what to say.

dude it makes my arms look fuckin HUGE

thats bc ur arms are huge, stupid ass. You could've at least ironed it.

Jared grins; Chad thinks its because he just paid some poor girl to give him a lapdance, but Jared just waves her off. "I'm heading back to my hotel, man. You know this ain't my thing."

"Yeah," Chad says. "I guess I do."

Jared takes a shower after he gets back to his room and puts on a pair of black boxers when he gets out. Jensen's shirt is draped over the back of a chair. Jared picks it up; it still smells like Jensen, but now it smells a little like him too. Mostly sweat, but a little bit of his cologne is mixed with Jensen's, and just a little coffee that sort of missed his mouth earlier. Jared bunches it up and brings it to his face, breathing in the combined smell of him and Jensen, and he'd be a lying liar if he said he was surprised that it made his dick hard.

Jared comes with Jensen's shirt clenched in one fist, his cock in the other, Jensen's name so familiar and sweet on his lips he wants to scream it. He wonders if this is normal, if its just a phase or if he's going to screw up everything, and mostly if Jensen even feels the same way he does.

Jared tosses and turns for two hours before getting out of bed and slipping Jensen's shirt back over his head; this time he's asleep before his head touches the pillow.

"Jensen. I have to tell you something." Jared says when he gets back home. Home, he says again, but only in his head. He never realized how much he loved saying that. Jensen's on the couch with a 360 controller in his hand and Harley curled up beneath his feet. Jared wants to get his phone out and take a picture.

"Okay," Jensen says and pauses his game, because he knows Jared's serious business face and this is definitely it. "What's going on?"

Jared clears his throat. "Okay. Here it goes." He pulls on the bottom of Jensen's shirt, which he is still wearing. Its starting to smell a little less homey and Jensen-y, and a little more homely and gross. He's pink in the cheeks when he finally looks up at Jensen. "I liked wearing your shirt."

Jensen slowly puts the Xbox controller down on the coffee table and stands up. Jared swallows again as Jensen walks toward him; he can't tell if he's pissed off or disgusted or what, then he's pushing him against the front door, his fingers twisted in his own thin, cotton t-shirt that smells like three days of Jared sweat and coffee and god knows what else Jared ate and spilled on it, then his mouth is covering Jared's and oh god, oh GOD, none of that even matters.

When Jensen finally pulls away, he's grinning like a mental patient and his fingers are still tangled in his shirt, holding Jared close. "I'm glad," He says, letting his hand drift down Jared's chest. "It looks good on you."

Then Jared's pushing Jensen's back, kissing him, then they're falling, and Jensen lands on his ass on the stairs with Jared on top of him and they're both laughing. Jared kisses him again, kisses him like he means it, and his face is all business again when he leans back.

"So," he says, chewing the skin on the inside of his cheek. "Can I keep it?"

Jensen kisses him back, tugging on Jared's bottom lip with his teeth, and grins. "Its already yours, Jay."